Woody Pride
by Halley the Comet
Summary: A look at what Woody's life was like before he came to be Andy's toy. He has numerous owners, some good, some bad, but he always had friends to help him along the way. Probably going to get darker as it goes along, but it should be OK.
1. Chapter 1

**Narrator:**

'_There are a lot of memories that you remember forever._

_But there's always a particular one that stays in your mind which you are unable to forget, good or bad. _

_For a toy, that memory is when they are being unwrapped for the first time.'_

* * *

It was Christmas Day, and 6-year-old Sammy Bridges was sitting cross-legged underneath the family's Christmas tree. His younger brother, Jim, made a grab for a present, but his mother's hand calmly, but firmly, held him back.

'No, sweetie,' she said soothingly. 'Wait till Daddy's home first.' Jim frowned in disappointment and Sammy snuck a glance at the present his brother had tried to grab. It was square, wrapped in bright red paper and tied neatly with a gold ribbon. Sammy wished his father would hurry and come home.

Right on time, the sound of the door opening rang through the house. His mother walked over to her husband, who was shaking snow off his boots, and led him into the living room. He gave a murmur of appreciation at the beautifully decorated room, giving his wife Julie a quick kiss.

'Yuck!' Jim called, running over to him with Sammy. Tom gave Sammy a hug, and then scooped Jim up and put him on his back. The younger boy shrieked in delight as his father galloped around the room, pretending to be angry.

'Can we open the presents, _please_?' Sammy begged, clasping his small hands together hopefully. Tom smiled at his oldest son fondly, crouching down next to the tree with Julie, and picked up a blue wrapped present, handing it to him.

Shrieks of happiness could be heard from outside the Bridges home as the two boys unwrapped their gifts. Soon all that was left was the red present, pushed to the back of the tree, almost forgotten until Julie felt it with her hand and pulled it out.

'For Sammy, with love from Santa,' she said with a smile as she handed it to her son. Sammy grasped the present excitedly and pulled off the ribbon, ripping the paper with his hands until he felt the edge of a box on his fingertips.

'Oh wow! A cowboy!' he exclaimed in delight as he unearthed the last of the wrapping paper. He stared at the see-through plastic at the brown-haired, brown-eyed doll, dressed in a yellow top and brown boots, with a hat placed neatly on top of his head.

'It's Woody, from Woody's Roundup,' his mother explained. 'Santa must have known that was your favourite show,' she added, a sparkle in her eye.

'Wow!' Jim said, reaching out his hands and trying to snatch the box from Sammy.

Sammy pulled it away from him in horror. 'No! It's mine!' he said crossly. 'You don't even watch the show.'

'Open him, Sammy,' Tom said.

Sammy pulled the top of the box until the cardboard opened. Slowly he pulled Woody from the plastic, straitening his hat and inspecting his boots. His brown eyes were shiny. His mouth curved into a comforting smile.

And from that moment on, Woody was Sammy's favourite.

* * *

Woody was put on Sammy's bed when Sammy had to go out to visit his grandma. Sammy was worried that her dog would chew on him. He didn't want him to get broken as soon as he had got him.

As soon as the door shut, the room sprang to life.

'A new toy?'

'Can he talk?'

'Of course he can talk!'

Two toy bears, one tiny bear, an old horse, a toy truck, a toy car, a few wooden dolls, a robot and a troll doll with red hair all tiptoed out of their places to peer at the new toy when they were sure the coast was clear.

Woody blinked one brown eye suddenly, then the other. His limbs felt strangely stiff and he struggled to focus properly. He sat up from his lying position, twitching his unfamiliar feeling arms and legs. He was aware that he was a toy but he wasn't sure where he was.

Woody was suddenly aware that he was being watched and jumped a little when he saw a pair of dark eyes staring at him from the floor, feeling slightly alarmed. The toy laughed in a friendly way, pulling himself up onto the bed and holding out his paw in surrender.

'It's okay. Really,' the toy bear said with a laugh, 'that's nearly always a new toy's reaction.'

The other toys walked a little nearer to the bed, trying to see the new toy.

'I'm Jack,' the bear said, holding out a paw to help Woody up. Woody uneasily took it, not sure if he could stand up properly. Jack seemed to understand. 'It's okay. Takes time to get used to it.'

He loosed his paw on Woody's hand when he was standing upright. Woody took a few careful steps on the bed, trying not to fall over.

'Well, this is Sammy's room,' Jack said, not really sure where to go from there. Woody still hadn't said a word to him. 'So welcome! We don't get many new toys often. Sammy's parents aren't very well off but they know how much Sammy loves toys.'

Woody wanted to ask him why he hadn't been a gift for Jim, since he was younger than Sammy and probably wanted toys more than he did, but he was suddenly worried that he couldn't.

'Can you tell me your name?' the bear asked him kindly.

Woody stared at him, suddenly panicked. 'My…' His voice came out quietly at first. He cleared his throat. 'My name's Woody,' he said, the name suddenly springing to his mind as he remembered seeing it on the box.

'I'll give you a tour of the room,' Jack offered, jumping down from the bed easily. Woody stared down at the edge and then jumped after him. His legs still felt wobbly but he didn't fall.

* * *

Jack seemed to be the leader in Sammy's room, as he knew all the toys and introduced them. Woody greeted them, feeling more confident. Sammy's bedroom wasn't very big and the tour was soon finished.

'Are there any more toys?' the red-haired troll doll asked him excitedly.

'Uh, I don't know,' Woody admitted. 'I think he got some games, but they're downstairs.'

'Wait!' Jack said suddenly. He could hear the front door opening downstairs. 'Places, everyone!' To Woody's surprise, everyone rushed away and climbed up onto shelves and under the bed. Some simply lay on the floor, where they had been left by Sammy when he was playing with them.

'The bed, Woody,' Jack told him as he walked over to the other side of the room and sat down, preparing to go into frozen mode before Sammy walked in.

'Right.' Woody quickly clambered onto the bed and lay as he had before. Within minutes the toys could hear Sammy rushing upstairs noisily, bursting into the room with a handful of games he had gotten for Christmas. When he put them away, he picked up Woody and held him in his hand. He made him 'walk' over to where the robot was lying, propping him up against a book.

'Oh no! The robot's got his gun out! Quick, run, Woody!' Sammy made a noise which sounded like a mix between someone coughing and hissing as he attempted to made gunshot sounds. He made Woody slide underneath the bed for safety. 'Now get him!' He brought out a wooden toy gun and made Woody 'hold' it in his hand as he pressed the trigger. A wooden ball shot out. It missed the robot completely, but Sammy made it 'bounce back' and hit the robot in the head. He made the robot fall to the ground and brought out the troll doll, riding a toy truck.

'Thanks, Sheriff!' he said in a funny high-pitched voice, pretending to be the troll doll.

'No problem,' he said in a deep Woody voice.

Woody felt like grinning.

'Sammy! Put your toys away, sweetie, it's time for bed!' Julie's voice echoed up the stairs.

'Aww…' Sammy mumbled, but his eyes were drooping. He put away all the toys apart from Woody, who he took to bed, hugging him against his chest. 'Night, Woody,' he mumbled. Sleepily, he pulled Woody's pull string.

'_You're my favourite deputy!_' Woody heard himself say.

Sammy smiled, rolled over and fell asleep.

* * *

**I don't own Toy Story, but Jack the bear is my own creation, based off one of my mum's teddies that she had when she was little. She still has it today actually.**

**It feels like ages since I've done a fan fiction. This is my first Toy Story one, which I really felt like writing when I heard people's ideas and opinions on a possible Toy Story 4. I suppose it's a sort of prequel explaining about Woody's life before he ended up with Andy (because I've always been interested about Woody's background, since it wasn't really explained much apart from when Andy's mom tells Al that Woody is an old family toy) and all that he went through. Not sure what the rating should be, but it is likely to get a lot darker in later chapters, if I do continue with this story. Should I? **


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N – did I mention the setting? I don't think I did, but anyway, this is set in the late 1950's, almost sixties. I'll write more about that in the next chapter.**

* * *

January rolled around, and Sammy had to go back to school, much to his annoyance. Each morning (if he had time) he'd get out his favourite cowboy and his other toys and play with them for as long as possible. He'd moved from shooting to fighting, although he was careful not to rip or break any of his toys.

When he got back from school he'd get them all out again, making the teddies and wooden dolls the ones who always got kidnapped, while Woody always saved them. Woody was initially worried that the other toys would be annoyed that he was the one who got the constant attention, but to his relief they didn't seem to mind.

It was a dreary morning when suddenly a small, white thing danced past the window and fluttered softly to the ground. Woody peered, his plastic hands pressed against the glass, fascinated, as another one fell, then another, then another. Blue, one of the teddy bears, and then a few of the dolls came and stood with him, watching the snow fall. The grass was soon caked in the snow.

Sammy's toys were generally well-behaved but they could be mischievous, especially when there was no one in the house (Sammy and his brother were at school, and his parents were both at work). They took a bewildered Woody along with them as they all piled into the back of a plastic toy truck. The biggest toy, which was Jack, got out and gave it a push, hopping on quickly as it shot out of the room and collided with the wall, spinning crazily before going bumpily down the stairs.

If anyone had come by at that particular moment, they would have been amazed, for they would have seen a toy truck racing by with three toy bears, a few troll dolls, a robot, a wooden horse and a cowboy doll, all laughing as they crashed into walls and flew down the stairs. Woody (and the other toys) hung on for dear life until it reached a stop. Incredibly, the truck didn't even topple over as it came off the last step.

They got outside by opening one of the windows which Julie had left open slightly, laughing as they felt the snow fall onto them. It was coming down even more heavily than before, almost a snowstorm. Woody was up to his knees, and he tried to wriggle his boots out of the snow, without success.

The toys were all having a good time until the sound of an engine startled them. They all froze in alarm as an old-fashioned car pulled up outside. Woody stared, snow dripping off his back, wide-eyed as Julie stepped out, shutting the door behind her. 'Oh no…' he muttered.

Jack sat up, snow trickling off his orange fur. For a moment the toys just stared at the car, watching Julie walk to the boot and open it.

'Quick everyone,' he hissed eventually. 'Get inside!' When no one moved, he whispered, 'Now!'

'Come on, everyone, get inside!' Woody insisted. He leapt onto the windowsill and started helping the other toys up, trying his best not to be seen by Julie, who luckily hadn't noticed her son's toys spread outside.

However, just as he had lifted the last toy through the window, Julie stopped and turned around. Panicked, Woody froze instinctively and dropped onto the ground, falling on his back in the icy snow. Within moments he had been covered in snow, not wanting Julie to see him.

Julie didn't notice Woody, but she noticed the window. Shutting the boot of the car, she walked swiftly over to it. With a firm push the window slammed shut – leaving Woody trapped outside.


	3. Chapter 3

_Oh no, _Woody thought, in a panic. The door swung shut behind Julie, too quickly for him to dart inside.

_This is bad_, he thought. _Very, very bad_.

Woody sat up and shook snow off his back, hoping that it wouldn't damage his voice box. He jumped up, glancing around, before leaping easily onto the windowsill and pressing his hands against the glass. He tried to jump up and pull on the window, but it wouldn't open from the outside.

_Great!_ Woody mentally snapped. _Just_ _great!_

Hearing a noise from inside the house, he went limp and fell back onto the ground, wincing as the cold seeped into his back.

* * *

What seemed like an hour later, Woody heard a noise from Sammy's window. He'd been lying in the snow for ages and his back felt horribly cold. However, he shot up in surprise as he saw something being thrown out of the window.

When he looked properly, he realized, to his amazement, they were shoelaces. They looked suspiciously like Sammy and Jim's, stolen and tied together by the other toys. Woody felt a rush of relief, made stronger when the faces of the other toys peered down at him.

'Woody!' one of the bears called. 'Woody, are you all right?'

'I'm fine, Blue,' Woody replied, climbing carefully onto the windowsill, making sure no one was looking before leaping up (quite gracefully, he might add) and grasping hold of the thin lace. It hadn't stretched very far, but it was enough for Woody to keep hold of and for the other toys to pull him up, back into Sammy's bedroom.

* * *

Only one person had seen the toys. A small girl, of about four, had been sitting in the garden when the toys threw the shoelaces out of the window. She looked up and saw a small cowboy doll being pulled up into the window, on what looked like a thin rope.

'Mommy, Mommy!' the girl screamed. 'Mommy, come and look, it's a flying cowboy! _Look_, Mommy!'

'You and your imagination, Lucy!' a woman's voice called from inside the house.

'But _Mommy_, I'm not lying!'

* * *

'That was close,' Blue sighed, when Woody had been safely pulled back into Sammy's bedroom. 'At least we found a use for these shoelaces.'

'Don't Sammy and Jim use them in their shoes?' Woody asked with a grin, glad to be back with his friends.

'No...well, I'll put them back.'

Woody looked doubtful, but let it go anyway.

* * *

When Sammy and Jim returned from school, his back had dried completely, and the toys had tested his pull string earlier. His voice box had miraculously stayed undamaged, which was a relief.

Sammy started to set up his toys, one by one, until Julie poked her head around the door. 'You can't play with your toys now, Sammy, we're going visiting Grandma.'

'Oh...right.' With a small sigh, he put his toys back and pulled on a coat. He felt underneath his bed for his shoes and shoved them on his feet, running out of his room. There was a sound of a thump, and them Sammy shouted out in pain. 'Ow! Mom, Jim stole my shoelaces! I fell over and my leg hurts.' Fussing and wincing, Julie helped Sammy back up and down the stairs.

'Oops,' Blue said guiltily, with a nervous grin.

Woody sat up, rolling off the bed and slid down the cover. 'I want to thank you guys for helping me when I was stuck outside,' he said. 'You could've just left me outside in the snow, but you didn't.'

'It was nothing,' one of the dolls said modestly.

It wasn't nothing, though, Woody thought. His friends had rescued him. He felt his throat catch a little. He was lucky, he knew. Every toy knew they were lucky to belong to Sammy. It was easy for a toy to be bought by the wrong kid.

He didn't realize his luck was beginning to run out.

* * *

**Argh, sorry about this chapter! I AM going to get the story moving forward more, but I just need to get this out of the way first. But anyway, it'll be more exciting in the next chapter, I promise. **


	4. Chapter 4

_Had it really gone so fast?_

Woody stared at the sleeping form, lying on the bed. He was surprised; shocked, even, that his owner had just turned fifteen. It felt like just yesterday he had been a small, six-year-old boy smiling at his favorite toy on Christmas day.

He walked over and glanced at the calender.

August 5th, 1960.

Underneath Sam's bed lay his old toys. The robot, now with a broken arm, started suddenly, and then opened one of his square eyes to look at Woody. Woody smiled at him reassuringly and the robot gave him his own crooked grin. Woody wished the robot could talk, like the other toys, but strangely he couldn't. When he had asked Jack about it, he had been told that some toys just couldn't talk. He didn't know why. It was just one of those strange things.

Woody ducked back underneath the bed and lay on his back. He stared thoughtfully up at the bed, until a voice shook him from his thoughts.

'Everyone's asleep,' Blue said, his black eyes glinting strangely in the dark room.

'Except for me and you,' Woody replied quietly.

'That's right.' The bear let out a strange laugh. 'Apart from us.'

Slowly, he stretched out his arms. 'Apart from us,' he repeated, the odd look returning to his eyes. 'It was always us, wasn't it, cowboy? You and me and Jack. Us three. We were the favorites, weren't we?'

Woody wasn't sure how to respond. 'Sam loved all of us,' he said carefully, still lying on his back and staring up at his hands.

'Yeah. He did, didn't he?' Blue looked hard at Woody. 'Those were good times.'

'What do you mean, they _were_?' Woody sat up suddenly. 'He still loves us.'

'Oh, come on, cowboy.' Blue's eyes somehow went even darker. 'Isn't it obvious? We're lying under his bed, covered in dust. How long has it been since he's played with us? How long has it been since he's last _looked_ at us?'

'He's older. He isn't going to play with us much anymore.'

'Wake _up_, Woody!' Blue sounded fed-up, almost as if he had spoken the same conversation before. 'He isn't going to play with us again. _Ever_. He doesn't want us anymore.'

'Of course he does!' Woody was beginning to get annoyed at the blue bear. What had come over him, all of a sudden? 'If he didn't want us, then he would have -' He stopped short, the words seeming to get stuck in his throat.

'Yeah, he would've thrown us out,' Blue said, continuing Woody's unspoken words. 'So what's the point in staying around, if that's what he's going to do?'

'But he won't. He wouldn't!'

'What makes you so sure?' Blue turned his gaze to the cowboy, who had stood up and was now glaring at the bear. 'I don't want to stay around to find out.'

Woody froze. He couldn't be sure what the bear meant, exactly. 'You're...you're leaving?' he stuttered. Blue actually wanted to go? But they were toys. They stuck together. They had to be there, for their owner.

'I don't know.' Blue had a distant look on his face. 'Maybe.' He turned away from Woody, deliberately ignoring him as he walked to the corner of the bed. Woody watched as the bear lay down and closed his eyes. Maybe he was asleep. Maybe he was pretending. Even so, Woody cleared his throat as he asked, 'What makes _you_ so sure?'

Blue's eyes opened again. Woody didn't know whether he had understood him fully, but after a minute or two, the bear suddenly spoke up.

'It happened to me,' he said.

* * *

**Aha! I bet you all thought I gave up on this story, didn't you! Well, after a very lovely review from Forgelove, I decided to get writing another chapter and post it as quickly as I could. Next chapter will be coming soon!**

**Also - I changed the timeline a little, because it would have contrasted with the later chapters that I'm planning to write. So just ignore what I said in the previous chapters!**


	5. Chapter 5

The toys lasted another year before they were discovered by Julie, who had come into his room one day to give it a clean, and found her son's old toys lying scattered underneath his bed.

Woody had remembered it clearly. She had gathered them all, even the robot, into a small box, carrying them downstairs with her. They had been put onto a chair until Sam's mother had gone outside.

And then, the panic started.

'What's happening?' the wooden dolls squeaked.

'Is she throwing us away?' another voice asked.

Jack let out a groan. 'This shouldn't be happening...we're _Sam's_ toys, not hers! He should be the one to decide what he wants to do with us,' he exclaimed, with a hint of sadness in his voice.

'But what _is_ she doing with us?' Woody asked, also in a panic. He, being one of the younger toys in Sam's collection, did not know as much as the other toys. He _had_ been told stories of the unfortunate toys that had ended up in bins, or even just left outside, where they were either carted away never to be seen again or chewed up by the neighborhood dogs. But he couldn't be sure whether those stories were true or if the other toys were simply messing around with him.

'I don't know.' Jack twisted his paws together. 'She might not be throwing us out...maybe she's giving us away.'

'But I don't want to be given away!' one of the wooden dolls exclaimed, his voice shifting from panic to utter horror. 'I like it here...I want to stay here!'

'We're toys,' Jack simply said. 'We can't decide what happens to us. We can't choose our fate...it gets given to us.'

'What about Blue?' someone else muttered.

Woody's throat tightened. A few weeks after their argument underneath Sam's bed, the blue bear had disappeared. Vanished. The other toys had been confused at first, thinking he had been snatched when they hadn't been looking and taken away. But over time, they had all come to accept that he had left by his own free will. None of them knew where he had gone, though. It was something else that they had never found out.

Jack didn't hear him. Or maybe he was just ignoring him. 'Sh!' he whispered, wriggling around in the small box. 'I think she's coming back.'

The toys immediately went limp as Julie walked back into the room. She picked up the box with the toys in and walked outside. The toys were greeted by a blast of cold air. In the sky, Woody could see dark, grey clouds beginning to form.

'That's wonderful, Jean. Congratulations.'

'Thank you.' Jean, who the toys guessed was her neighbor, let out a laugh. 'Michael's very excited about it too...'

_Excited about what?_ Woody wondered.

'What are those?' Jean asked, and Woody could see a face looming over them. Jean tucked her short, brown hair behind her ears and smiled prettily at the toys. 'Oh, those are lovely! Whose are they?'

'These belong to Sam, but he's too old to play with them now anyway, so I thought I might as well throw them out...'

With those words, every single one of the toys froze. Well, they were already frozen, but Woody could sense that they were all shocked by her words. They _were_ going to be thrown out! Even Jack, the oldest and bravest toy out of the gang, was horrified. Woody could see the fear in his glassy eyes.

'Oh, you can't throw these out,' Jean said, sounding almost upset.

'Hm...' Julie seemed to be wavering. 'Actually, do you think your daughter would like them? You're always saying how much she loves toys.'

'Polly would _love_ them. Are you sure, though?'

'It's fine. They were just lying around, collecting dust. I doubt my son will miss them very much.' Woody gritted his teeth at her answer. How did _she_ know how her son would feel?

'Well...how much should I give you?'

'Oh, it's nothing. Think of it as a going-away present.' Sam's mother smiled at her neighbor.

As the two women exchanged goodbyes, a ripple of relief spread through each of the toys. They couldn't speak, not so close to someone, but they were all so glad they weren't being thrown out they felt like shouting.

The box lurched slightly, as the neighbor leaned it against her hip and pushed open her own front door. Through a tiny hole in the box, Woody could see that they were inside a house again...but this time, it wasn't Sam's.

They had been given away.


	6. Chapter 6

When the box was again put down, and Jean went upstairs, the toys all sat up and took in their surroundings.

The house wasn't like Sam's at all. There was hardly anything _in_ the house. Boxes were lying all around, some spilling contents on the floor. A few had been taped up and labelled with words such as **CLOTHES** and **PLATES **and things like that.

One box, which Woody walked over to and peered inside, contained a few very odd-looking objects. They were a lot of them, and they were kept in cases which had a picture of four men on. Woody noticed they all seemed to have the same hairstyle. There was a small opening, when Woody put his hand inside, he managed to pull out what was inside. It was a shiny black circle, with another red circle in the middle. Woody wondered if it was broken, because there was a small hole right in the middle of the red circle.

Jack wandered over to see what Woody was doing, and, despite all that had happened, gave a wry smile. 'Looks like our new home won't be so bad, after all,' he told Woody. 'At least we'll have some records to keep us entertained.'

'Records?'

'Or vinyl. Whatever you want to call it.' Jack took the record in his paws and gave it an admiring look. He must have noticed Woody's strange look. because he told him, 'A record is what people play when they want to listen to music.'

'How'd you get music from that?' Woody pointed at the record.

'It's...' Jack struggled. 'It's hard to explain. I'll show you some other time.'

Woody looked around the house again. 'Couldn't we just go back to Sam's?' he said hopefully.

'Cowboy, it's too late for that. We've already got a new owner.' Jack put the record back in the case and strolled back over to the box. Climbing back inside, he said, 'Someone's coming.'

Woody reluctantly followed him, as did the other toys, and they resumed their positions in the box. Not long after they did, a small girl with wavy brown hair and dark blue eyes ran down the stairs, skidding to a halt when she noticed the box. She looked inside, intrigued, and let out a small squeak of delight when she saw the toys inside. Woody was picked up first, along with Jack, and they could plainly see her face above them. There was a sprinkle of freckles along her nose.

Polly.

_But she wasn't Sam_, Woody couldn't help thinking to himself.

* * *

Michael put the last box in the car, and shut the door with some relief. He let his arms flop for a little while, until he heard a small giggle and saw his daughter smiling at him. He picked up his small daughter with both hands and spun her around in the air, hearing her shriek of delight.

Woody was not so delighted. He was being spun around like crazy and it was beginning to make him feel sick (if that was possible for a toy). Even so, he did not wish to find out, and was greatly relieved when Michael lowered Polly back down on the ground again.

He could see the car door opening, and was clutched tighter by Polly as she went inside. Michael strapped his daughter in, and then closed the door again. Woody wished some of the other toys were with him, but they had all been put into yet another box, which was taped up and was now being loaded into another car.

He wished they didn't have to move. He just wanted to stay here, with his owner and his old friends, here in this house which he hadn't even known for that long. They had only been there for about a week. Why did they have to leave already?

The car suddenly jerked forwards, almost jolting Woody out of Polly's hands. Polly tightened her grip on Woody as the car set off, re-adjusting his brown hat carefully as she leaned back on the seat. Although the car was comfy and they were driving at a safe speed, Woody couldn't help the strange feeling in his chest that something was going to go wrong.

_Something's going to go wrong_.

Woody tried to ignore the feeling, concentrating on the views outside the car window. It was beginning to rain; large, cold drops splattering on the glass.

Michael grumbled to himself as he twisted the wheel. 'Why does it have to rain, on this day?' he muttered to his wife, who let out a grunt, not too interested in her husband's annoyance.

* * *

They had driven for at least an hour, when Jean suddenly sat up and looked into the mirror. 'Michael,' she said.

'What?'

'The car. The car's gone.'

Michael glanced in the mirror. 'That's strange,' he said. 'Wait - no, there it is.' The car carrying the rest of their things re-emerged from behind another car, and started to turn left as they followed Michael.

Woody always wondered if that was what had gone wrong. The rain. He was sure the rain had something to do with it. Of course, it might not have been.

Maybe it was just faulty brakes.

One minute the car was turning left. The next, the car suddenly seemed incapable of slowing down. Inside the car, the driver slammed his foot hard on the brakes, but the road was wet with fallen rain and the car wouldn't stop. Skidding around the road, the brakes finally started to work and the car slowed to a halt. Until another driver, trying his hardest to avoid it, crashed straight into the car. The driver in the car shot forward, his head hitting the wheel, as the sound of crushing metal filled his ears.

* * *

**You have no idea how much I've been meaning to get this plot moving! This was so cruel yet enjoyable to write. Poor Woody. I'm so evil. Are his friends going to be OK? Find out...well, soon.**

**Oh - and someone in a review asked me if Sam's related to Andy. Currently I have no plans to have them related, but that's a pretty interesting idea.**


	7. Chapter 7

Woody sat alone, upstairs. Well, he wasn't alone. Polly was with him, although she was sleeping soundly and didn't notice her new toy climbing from her arm and slowly dropping onto the floor.

If toys could cry, Woody had thought, then he'd definitely have cracked at that moment. When the car had been stopped and help had come, there hadn't been a single box in sight. And any boxes that had been found, the contents had either been crushed or gone up in flames when the engine had caught fire.

Woody walked over to the windowsill and climbed up, sitting down with his legs clutched to his chest. He stared outside, looking at the moon. The stars each shone individually. He remembered when he had sat in Sam's house, watching it snow outside. It wasn't snowing now. It was still raining. It had been raining all day.

All his friends were gone. Ten years he had spent laughing and joking with the toys that he, had felt, were family to him. Everything he knew was gone. He was stuck in this new house with a new owner, when he didn't even want a new owner. He wanted Sam. He didn't even care if it meant being hidden under the bed and only being played with when Sam's toddler cousin came to visit.

He didn't want to be here.

Woody jumped, shaken from his thoughts, glancing around with narrowed eyes, when he heard a sudden noise from outside the door. Watching with wide brown eyes, he gasped as the door slowly creaked open and a figure walked into Polly's room.

A pause. Woody went still, fear coursing through his body, even though he knew a thief couldn't hurt him.

'Woody?' the voice whispered. 'Are you in here?'

Woody sat up. He knew that voice. '_Jack_?' he whispered. He jumped down from the windowsill and, overcome with emotion, threw his arms around the old bear. The bear, momentarily happy to see one of the toys he considered to be his best friend, hugged him back. 'How did you _get_ here? I thought...'

'Not me.' The bear went still suddenly. 'The others...' The words didn't need saying, and he looked at the cowboy with dark, sad eyes. 'Gone,' he said. Woody swallowed, nodding his head, feeling an empty pain shoot through his chest. 'When they were seeing what happened, I managed to get out. The others...I - I tried to get them to come but they said...they couldn't. They were broken. I'm so sorry, I tried -'

'It's okay, it's okay,' Woody reassured the miserable bear. It scared him a little to see his friend so unsure of himself; he was usually such a strong and confident leader. So sure of himself. 'I understand.'

'I ran over to the car and hid in the back, under the seat,' Jack explained.

Woody nodded, with some admiration. The bear and the cowboy walked over to look at Polly. 'She's a nice kid,' Woody said, which surprised him a little, because all he had done all day was think about how much he wanted to be at his old house with Sam. 'But she's not...'

'Sam,' Jack finished off, for him. 'I know. But Sam's gone now, Woody. She's all we've got.'

* * *

**Jack's back, everyone! C'mon, you didn't think I'd get rid of him that easily, did you?  
**


End file.
